


Always Real But Never Realistic

by DefaltManifesto



Series: Kiss The Sky [5]
Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exhaustion, F/M, Post Immortals War, Post-War, Relationship Negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-27 19:55:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12088227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaltManifesto/pseuds/DefaltManifesto
Summary: She wants to protect him and let him rest, but she knew what she’d agreed to when they married. He wasn’t just her husband. He was a King, and one with the Dominion Jewel no less.





	Always Real But Never Realistic

**Author's Note:**

> The second to last part of my 'conversations you have laying on someone or someone laying on you' theme based on a lyric from Kiss The Sky by Machine Gun Kelly. The title of the fic is taken from the same song. 
> 
> This is the "serious conversation" interpretation.

[The tumblr](http://schizzar.tumblr.com)

 

Thayet pushes Jon’s hair back and smooths out the wrinkles that are too stubborn to leave even in sleep. The Immortals War, as it was now being called, had drained the nation. However, while the rest of the country got to recover and rest, Jonathan continued to travel and work, aiding his citizens wherever he was needed. Selfishly, she wants to keep him here in their bed. She wants to protect him and let him rest, but she knew what she’d agreed to when they married. He wasn’t just her husband. He was a King, and one with the Dominion Jewel no less.

Jonathan makes a soft noise and presses into her hand before settling once more. Her back is starting to cramp but she doesn’t dare try to move or stretch it out, not when he’d tossed and turned for hours before drifting off. Her commitment doesn’t matter. Jon jerks awake and nearly falls off the bed in the process. Thayet catches his wrist and pulls him back on, arms wrapping around him when he collapses on top of her once more.

“Are you okay?” she asks. It’s a pointless question.

"It’s the Bazhir. They’re loud during their funerals,” Jon says. “Understandably so and I knew the burden of becoming The Voice I’m just…tired.”

“This isn’t sustainable,” Thayet says as Jon pushes his face into her neck. “You aren’t sleeping, you’re in the saddle every day and Alanna told me she’s had to feed you energy just to keep you standing some days.”

“The people need-“

“The people need their King alive,” Thayet says louder than she intends.

She can feel Jonathan wince, but she doesn’t regret it. He needs to hear it whether he wants to or not.

“Jonathan, your people know you love them. You have been down every road in this country since the war and your court is in disarray,” she says, voice quieter. “You look like you’re running from your responsibilities.”

Jon sighs and pushes himself up so he’s resting back on her thighs. He scrubs a hand down his too thin face before looking at her. “Unfortunately, pleasing the nobles and caring for the people tend to run at odds with one another.”

“I know. It’s difficult to strike that balance, but you’re never going to be able to do it in this condition,” Thayet says. “Please, Jonathan. Take a break.”

“I can’t afford that. Not now.”

Thayet shakes her head. “I don’t think you can afford not to.”

“It’s my duty, Thayet-“

Anger surges through her, quick and hot. She sits up and takes both his hands in hers, squeezing tight. “And what about your duty to me?”

“My kingdom comes-“

“First. I know. But you don’t seem all that concerned about staying alive for them so what about me?”

She hates that she can feel tears threatening at the edges of her eyes. The thing is though, she isn’t above using the waterworks if it means Jonathan will finally let himself recover. She’s never had much use for misguided pride.

“Thayet…”

“Lay with me Jonathan. And sleep,” she says, reclining back and tugging him down with her. “And tomorrow, eat all three meals and then lay down with me and sleep again.”

Jonathan turns his face into her neck, his scruff tickling her throat. “And after that?”

Thayet rubs a hand down his back in slow, repeated strokes. “Then, you keep doing it until you look like you’re among the living again. You do all that and I’ll allow you to work yourself to the bone again.”

“What else can I do for you?” Jon asks. “Living is a pretty low bar to clear and you’ve given up so much the last few months. What do you want?”

“I don’t need anything, Jonathan, you know that,” Thayet says.

“That’s not what I asked.” His words sound slurred.

Thayet kisses the top of his head. “Sleep Jonathan.”

His breathing evens out moments later and she brings her other arm up to hold him close, more for her own comfort than his. She bites her lip to stop any noise from escaping as she begins to cry. She refuses to add to Jon’s burden, not now. Their marriage is a partnership, but no matter their intentions, it will always be an uneven one. His country, _their_ country, must come first. She’s willing to accept that now as much as she was when she accepted his marriage proposal.

That doesn’t stop her tears, nor does it make her heart hurt any less.

The tears dry up soon and she takes a deep breath to try and steady her racing heartbeat. She’s overdue for drinks with Buri. That will straighten her out, at least until Jonathan recovers enough to commit the time and energy to her. She’s almost drifted off when Jonathan stirs.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I think you mean more to me than…”

“What?” she asks, voice soft. She can’t tell if he’s awake or just speaking out in his sleep.

Jonathan inhales sharply and curls tighter around her. “You matter more to me than our country, and perhaps that makes me a bad leader. I don’t care though. I’m going to do better by you.”

“Jon…”

He kisses her throat. “No more tears, my love. I won’t let you down again.”

Thayet tightens her grip. “I knew what I was getting into. You can’t make that promise.”

Jonathan pushes himself upright, his vibrant blue eyes far more lucid than they had been when he’d first come home. “Being a King doesn’t justify neglecting you and leaving you to cry while I sleep. My parents had one of the strongest relationships I’ve ever seen in a royal court. I want that with you.”

“I do too, Jonathan,” Thayet says, caressing his cheek.

“So tell me what made you weep? I only caught the end of it,” Jon says, reaching down and wiping away a few stray tears with his thumb.

Thayet flushes and looks down. “It seems foolish, now that you’ve addressed it.”

“If it’s important to you than it’s not foolish,” Jon says. “That’s the last word I’d use to describe your concerns.”

“I appreciate that but…I was just feeling hurt that I would never be the most important thing to you,” Thayet says.

Jonathan kisses her, slow and sweet, before pulling back to look her in the eye. “Perhaps I can’t always behave that way. It wouldn’t do for the citizens to think they weren’t my top priority and Goddess knows what the court would do. But you are the most important person in my life, Thayet. I won’t ever let you think you aren’t.”

Thayet starts to cry again, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him close. They’re good tears this time though. Now, she knows where she stands.


End file.
